Memories of Him
by GGluvr1987
Summary: Logan left for London, leaving Rory in an empty apartment, full of painful reminders of him. ONESHOT. ROGAN.


DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gilmore Girls in any way, shape, or form.

It was torture; she knew that she shouldn't do it, but she just couldn't help herself. She needed to see him, no matter how much it hurt to look at a face that she could no longer kiss. She needed to see that smirk that made her knees go weak and make her lose all logical thought. And the smile, not smirk, that he gave to only her. The smile that made her feel like everything was going to be okay. But, she knew that it wasn't going to be okay, because it wasn't the real thing. It was just a memory given physical form in one of many pictures that she had tortured him with.

There were so many pictures that when she lined them in order, she could almost see him moving about the apartment getting ready. She missed hearing him tease her; she missed arguing lightly about the small things that didn't matter. There wasn't much to be playful about over the phone and every conversation had an invisible cloud hanging over it. Neither of them wanted to let on to the other that they were miserable. It was easier this way; if they pretended like everything was okay, then it would be. Rory knew that as long as he was away from her, she would never be okay. So, she did the only thing she could to be close to him. She stared for hours at his pictures, convincing herself that it was just as good as the real thing.

His eyes twinkled playfully as he dodged her camera, telling her that she was crazy. It was him teasing her, making her smile despite what they both knew was coming. She had once thought that this was her favorite expression of Logan's. That was, however, until the day that he left. It was then that she missed the look of Logan's eyes in the morning, just as he had woken up. She had spent countless hours staring at his sleeping face, waiting for the moment when he would finally open his eyes and smile at her. It was her favorite part of the day; just to feel safe and comfortable with him, knowing that she wanted to wake up next to him for the rest of her life.

She had never even thought that this wouldn't happen until it was too late. There was no picture of Logan in the morning, smiling sweetly at her with his warm brown eyes. All she had was her memory, which she was terrified would eventually fade. Every morning, she would wake up, still expecting to see him lying next to her. She would then close her eyes and imagine that he was there, giving her the strength to get out of bed and get through her day without him.

She makes her way through their apartment that with each passing day continues to lose its reminisce of Logan. There is no longer the faint smell of alcohol and every last bit of healthy food was gone. He was no longer there to force her to eat something besides pop tarts to go with her coffee. There was always a neatly stacked newspaper on the table with only one reader. She couldn't tease him about how slow he read and the fact that she needed his section to continue her article. The big television practically went unused, as well as the pool table, which she had never learned to use. The only need she had for it was when Logan was pushing her against it. Every morning as she got dressed, she couldn't help but stare longingly at the empty corner of the closet. She had always told him he had an ungodly amount of clothes, especially for a guy. He was the most handsome, best dressed man she had ever seen and that fact was thrown in her face every morning when she had to get ready alone.

There is a blank spot on the dresser, where one of her favorite pictures had been. The minute she had noticed it missing, she remembered how much he had loved it too. He took it to remember one of their first moments together as they jumped hand-in-hand off the scaffold. Just one more thing that she never would have done before she met him. As much as it hurt to see it missing, it made her smile that he wanted it. Maybe she wasn't the only one staring at faces on photographs.

She eats dinner at Luke's, as she did almost every day now. There were no more trips to fancy restaurants that Logan had always insisted weren't too expensive. She couldn't even attempt to cook without Logan there to aid her and ordering takeout was far too depressing. He wasn't there to spoil her and order even more than Lorelai would, just to make her happy. He had once said that he hated leftovers, but Rory knew that was just the years of snob in him that she hadn't gotten around to fixing yet. She even missed that about him; no matter how much she claimed to hate his arrogance, she always found it incredibly charming.

Every time she starts to miss him, it makes her think of all the things they had gone through and all the things she wanted to do with him. They had both changed each other so much and that had once scared her. Now, she just thinks about what differences they could have made if they were still together. She would rid him of his frivolous tendencies and he would continue to make her open to new ideas. There wasn't much they could do over the phone, expect maybe suggest that calling at four in the morning isn't exactly polite, no matter what country you are in.

After more months pass, she finds that the pictures simply aren't good enough. The phone calls are far too short and e-mails are anything but romantic. She finds that her dreams are her best bet, but those also hurt when she awakes and realizes that he is in fact thousands of miles away and not right next to her. She tells herself that seeing a talking and moving Logan, unlike in the pictures, was worth the hurt. Even if it wasn't, there was nothing she could do to prevent it. He invaded her every waking thought as well as her sleeping ones.

She's desperate now; she can't seem to satisfy her need to see him, to be with him. There were still three months until Thanksgiving, and every single one of her coping mechanisms was failing her. She couldn't help but wonder if he was going through the same thing. While she couldn't imagine Logan moping around an apartment thinking only of her, she somehow felt that he was indeed doing the same. His voice, like hers, had slowly started to sound more and more lifeless over the phone. Both had to force enthusiasm at each other's daily re-counting of their days and when it came time to say goodbye, the "I love you's" didn't just sound like a loving gesture, but sad words that only served to remind them what they were missing.

Hearing him say the words "I love you, Ace" had always made her heart jump in her chest. She would always remember how he said it as he left, leaving her crying in an apartment that would become something of torture. She had sat clutching his pillow and her digital camera, looking at pictures that she had yet to develop. Ridiculous decorations honoring the country that she now despised hung all around her, serving as a cruel reminder of how far away he really was. The minute she was able to get out of bed, she tore them down, not being able to look at them any longer.

Her boyfriend was in London, thousands of miles away from her. He had actually left, and she had let him. She had sat in this very apartment, listening to him ask her to tell him not to go, and she didn't. Now, all she had was months and months of living in an apartment full of painful reminders. The first apartment she had ever shared with a man, and she couldn't bring herself to admit that she was no longer sharing it with him. She was only sharing it with her memories of him.


End file.
